


Two Strangers

by oddsnends



Series: Two Strangers [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsnends/pseuds/oddsnends
Summary: Ivar Lothbrok has always been a little sheltered and a little insecure, despite his bravado. Tucked safely under his brother’s wing, Ivar takes a risk, and finds out what life is like when you let a stranger become a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have posted this series to tumblr, where most of my Vikings fics are. After some thought, I decided to spread the love.

The flight was crowded giving you little to no room to move, thankful for your window seat, you sat down with the curiosity over who would fill the two spaces next to you. Perhaps an elderly couple heading to visit grandchildren? Maybe a business man and a professional looking woman, or maybe a newly wed couple heading for a honeymoon?

What you weren’t expecting was the tall, dark haired man, with the bluest eyes you’d ever saw. The flight attendant smiled sweetly as she helped the young man to his seat, only paying him half attention, it wasn’t until he tried to sit down that you took stock of the elbow crutches encircling his arms. Trying not to stare, he looked embarrassed enough as it was, you diverted your attention for a split second but not before noticing how frustrated the man looked trying to maneuver his legs into the cramped space of the seats.

It felt like only a second had gone by, when the in flight routine began, watching the woman at the front of the cabin helped you not to say something unintentionally rude or stupid to the man who sat on the other side of the empty seat next to you.

Shifting uneasily, you didn’t have to look to know that those crystal blue eyes were sparing you glances every few seconds. His dark hair long and hanging in his face, the man sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

Oh good! If he slept the entire flight, then you wouldn’t have to worry about saying something stupid. Although, if he slept the entire flight, how would you get out if you needed to use the restroom? Or what if there was a crash? Would he be able to get up and get to safety? Why were these the types of thoughts you were having, anyway? Damn it, since when had you become such an ass towards others?

Ascending into the air, you stole a glance at the mysterious man; his frustration from earlier seemed to be gone and now replaced with a new emotion. Holding his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched him take a deep breath – holding it for a second or two before letting it go. This happened no less than three times as the plane climbed to the desired altitude.

Hands gripping the seat rest, his knuckles were turning white, and his eyes were squeezed shut. He looked terrified!

“Excuse me,” You softly found your voice. Opening his eyes, he turned his face to you. “Are you okay?”

“What? You see someone like me and assume the need to pry?” He snapped at you.

“Well, no,” You shook your head. What an ass! “I meant are you okay. As in you look really nervous, but never mind.” You turned your attention away from him, picking up the book you’d brought for the flight.

A few seconds passed, before you heard his voice again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…It’s just…usually.” He groaned, reaching out his hand. “Can we start that, again? I’m Ivar. Ivar Lothbrok.”

Making your introduction, you awkwardly shake his hand. His grip stronger than you would have ever guessed and his hands roughly calloused.

“And yes, I am nervous.” Ivar answered your assumptions. “I’ve never flown before, hell I’ve never even left my hometown without one of my brothers, before.”

“Oh, well, lucky for you I am an expert at flying.” You smile broadly, trying to ease his nerves. “Are you going somewhere on vacation?”

“Sort of,” Ivar swallowed a lump of fear as the plane jerked a little. “I’m going to visit my uncle, I haven’t seen him since I was a small child, but my father requested that I go, so…here I am.”

“Your dad isn’t going with you?” You were curious as to why anyone would put this poor man on a plane, sending him to who knows where, his first time away from home alone.

“He’s passed away, which is why I have to go see my uncle. Family stuff and all of that, hey I don’t suppose you know if the airport in Paris has an elevator?” Ivar jumped from topic to topic, nervously running his hands over his thighs.

Shocked by his confession, you open and close your mouth making you look a bit like a fish, before finding the words. “I’m sure they do, yeah?”

“Good, because I’d be fucked if all they have are stairs and escalators. You wouldn’t believe how many times one of my brothers have had to carry my ass through public places.” He tried to make a joke out of it, obviously being lost on you. “I’m sorry, I talk too much when I’m nervous. It’s okay, you don’t have to talk to me. Thanks for checking on me, though.”

You watched stunned while he pushed his hand through his long hair, brushing it out of his face. Leaning back into his seat, another sigh rising from his chest.

“You said you have brothers?” You wanted to keep the conversation going, hoping to ease his nerves, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. In the time it would take you to land, you wanted to know as much about this man as possible.

Shame on you for being nosy!

“Yep, three and a half. All older.” Ivar smirked, his nerves showing through the gesture.

“Three and a half?”

“My oldest brother, same dad and different moms. He’s a lot older than me, but he’s around quite a bit.” He noted. You nodded. “What about you? Any siblings or tragic back stories?”

“Uh,” You paused, before launching into a mini, awkwardly staggered, autobiography. Evidently, you were no where near as interesting as Ivar Lothbrok.

Ivar’s nerves seemed to simmer and settle the more you talked, the conversation flowing easily and wildly between the two of you. Getting to know Ivar, hearing his story, made you feel even worse for the quick judgment that you’d made on him when he’d first taken his seat. Looking past his obvious aliment, you’d quickly realized that Ivar was smart and clever, based on some of the brief stories he’d bestowed upon you from his child hood to recent years. Not to mention deadly handsome, his eyes crinkled and shone every time he giggled or laughed at something.

For a nervous wreck, who’d entered the plane, Ivar hardly looked to be the same man once he relaxed.

As the plane quieted in the late hours, Ivar’s voice lowered and he leaned over to be closer, wanting to keep the conversation going until one or both of you fell asleep.

“You know, when I got to the airport, my brother was concerned. Ubbe has rarely let me out of his sight, since I was baby. My brother Hvitserk, was supposed to come with me,” he motioned to the seat between you, “but plans changed and I was pissed. I was terrified, I haven’t seen my uncle since I was maybe six or seven, I’ve never met his family. I’ve never been in the world on my own, and people aren’t always the nicest to the boy whose legs don’t work.”

You held your lip between your teeth, mimicking Ivar’s own habit. Waiting with baited breath for whatever he was about to say, the more he spoke, the more you wanted to listen. Watching his lips move, you had a hard time not wanting to kiss them – Oh fuck! No! You were sitting next to a stranger on a plane, this was not the time to think about how long it’s been since…

“Well, people are idiots, Ivar Lothbrok.” You shut your brain off, hoping for the best to come out.

“I agree, they truly are.” He nodded and chuckled, “But I’m glad Hvitserk didn’t come, because had you seen him, then well…” He laughed lightly. “You would have never talked to the boy whose legs don’t work.”

“Is that what you think, Ivar? Because you can’t do everything that someone else can, nobody likes you?” You were feeling sad at his admission.

“Oh fuck no,” Ivar scoffed and giggled again, “I simply meant everyone knows that he’s the brother who gets all the girls. He’s handsome, has a great sense of adventure, and knows how to lie like a cheap rug.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle a little, as well. “And here I thought we were having some deep and meaningful moment.” You teased.

Licking his lips, Ivar winked. “Are you kidding? This whole flight has been a deep and meaningful moment. I do want to thank you, not because you’ve spoke to me, or because you didn’t look at me and take pity, but because sitting next to you for the entire flight has been a true pleasure. If I’d known this was a possibility, I’d have left home on my own, a long time ago.”

Sitting here, talking, laughing, and easing his nerves had given Ivar something to smile about. Given his reason for flying, this could have been a nightmare, thanks to you it was the exact opposite. Clearing his throat, Ivar shyly tucked his head, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Since we’re both going to Paris, do you think, maybe,” It was highly unlikely, but he had to ask, “We could get together while we’re there? Go for a drink? Maybe a walk around Parc Monceau? I promise, you won’t even have to carry me.”

“Ivar,” The tone of your voice made his heart sink.

Of course, Ivar should have known this would never be more than two strangers on a plane. What had he been thinking? You were obviously talking to him to be friendly and to pass the time, but if he were one of his brothers…He could easily see you alongside Bjorn climbing a mountain or scaling a rock wall. You would fit well with Ubbe laughing at the pub, or taking in a football game with Hvitserk. Hell he could even imagine you holding hands with Sigurd at a concert.

“Don’t be so silly,” You continued, his heart sinking more. “Why would I carry you, when we could just get a wagon?”

“Are you…are you saying that you’d like to go with me?” Ivar was clearly confused as to your reply. You smile and nod, eagerly agreeing to whatever he wanted to do while in Paris. “Oh, wow, okay well. Um. I’ll uh, I can text or call you.”

“I’d like that, I’d actually like that a lot.”

“Good, now all I have to do is learn French, otherwise finding that wagon might not be so easy,”

And to think, you were concerned about how boring this flight was going to be.


	2. Two Strangers : Take You Home

The air was chilly, as you sat down outside the small cafe, snuggling your scarf and thick jacket tighter around you. The overcast morning gave promise to a snowy afternoon, you were sure of it, which was why you were so confused about the desire that Ivar had to be outside.

Carefully, as always, lining his knees up to the chair behind him; Ivar gently lowered his body into the seating position discarding his crutches to lean on the table beside him. The black hat he wore covered his shaggy locks and brimmed those fantastic blue eyes that you adored so much. Licking his lips in the cold, he shivered a little, and rubbed his gloved hands together.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke, as if reading you mind, he continued. “I don’t get the chance to be outside, much, once the snow comes. It’s nice to get the fresh air, while I can.”

“It’s fine, Ivar.” You smile sweetly, reaching for your latte, shocked that it hasn’t turned cold sitting on the table. “I don’t mind, really.”

Arching his brow, Ivar smirked, “Really? Because you look like you’re freezing? We can go in, if you want.” He nodded his head toward the brick building that sat behind him. Inside was warm, inside was also crowded with bodies, and other obstacles that could be hell on Ivar.

As you had learned in Paris, people weren’t always so willing to accommodate the man whose legs didn’t work. Fools, you thought to yourself holding your latte to your lips.

“If I freeze now, it is an excuse to warm up later.” You winked at him. A deep blush crept into Ivar’s cheeks, trying to avoid the embarrassment he tucked his chin into his jacket.

Warming up at his and Ubbe’s place would be a hell of a lot different than how the two of you had warmed up last night, in your hotel.

“When we get back, my brothers will likely be there.” He spoke softly, his cheeks less flushed. Picking up his cup of coffee – no sugar with a small splash of milk – Ivar took a long drink.

You had yet to meet all of his brothers, so far he had only been comfortable introducing you to Ubbe. Something about the introduction had felt right to Ivar, leading to the introduction last evening before you and Ivar had gone out to dinner and drinks.

This morning, on his way to meet you, Ivar had even heard Ubbe talking about the two of you. His older brother was talking to Sigurd, saying how great of a match you seemed to be, if this was in fact a romantic relationship, and that he was happy Ivar had finally gotten out and found someone. The conversation had seized when Ivar thumped into the kitchen, acting as though he was oblivious to the moment.

“Hmm,” You hummed, blowing hot air between your gloved hands, “So, I finally get to meet the rest of the infamous Lothbrok family?”

If they were as welcoming and friendly as their Uncle Rollo, how difficult could this meeting be? While hanging out in Paris, Ivar had asked you to attend an art gallery opening with him, as it was being put on by his Uncle’s wife. Accepting the invite, you had spent the evening feeling severely under dressed and way too poor to be among those at the opening. Ivar had made you feel at ease, making silly comments, and little digs at various points in the night. His Uncle had welcomed you happily, explaining that this was his wife’s scene and fully understood any feelings of awkwardness.

“I don’t expect Bjorn to be there, but you will get you meet Sigurd and Hvitserk.” Ivar informed you, his eyes clouding and his brow sharpening into a tight furrow. “Are you sure that you’re okay to sit outside?”

“I’m fine, really. So,” You leaned forward in the metal chair, “tell me more about your brothers. Any quirks or details that I need before hand?”

Ivar had told you a lot of things about his brothers, but nothing on a personal level of detail.

Biting his bottom lip, out of habit, Ivar wrinkled his nose a brief second before he spoke. “Hvitserk will no doubt try to hit on you, ignore him. He’s perpetually horny.” You laughed at the way Ivar rolled his eyes with his words. “Sigurd and I are very close in age, we sometimes get into arguments without realizing it. If that happens, don’t worry because Ubbe knows when and how to break us up.”

“Unlucky for Hvitserk, I have a great act for deflecting advances and flirting.” You chuckle, biting your own bottom lip. Ivar had mentioned that he and Sigurd would bicker on occasion, their worst fight being Ivar’s senior year in high school, when he lost his virginity to Sigurd’s girlfriend – to prove a point to his brother, of course. “And Bjorn? If he is around, what is he like?”

“He comes off as being a hard ass, but he’s a good guy. He’s quiet and observant, my uncle says that he is a lot like my dad.” Ivar shrugged at the thought. “My mom always said that I am like my dad, as well. So, I don’t really know. Bjorn is nice, although I think he is 100% done with our bullshit.” He laughed.

You remembered Ivar mentioning his eldest brother’s constant absence, as Bjorn had a wife and two, maybe three, children.

You smiled, trying to find something to add, or a joke to make but came up short. Knowing how Ivar had also lost his mother, someone who he had been very close to, maybe a joke wasn’t fit for this part of conversation.

A chill ran through you, shaking your body, as the wind picked up. The clouds were growing darker and your watch told you that morning had now turned into the afternoon. You’d been with Ivar for a good three hours and had no plans of parting ways just yet. Unless he wished to take some alone time until you were scheduled to have dinner at his and Ubbe’s place.

Tipping the rest of your latte into your mouth, the sweetness came as a comfort. “Do you have plans for lunch?”

Ivar shook his head, finishing his coffee and aiming the cup at a nearby trash can. Effortlessly he tossed the cup, landing it in the bin. “And he scores!” he raised his arms in mock victory. “Ivar Lothbrok, ten points.”

Clapping caused a jolt in your numb fingers, but didn’t stop you from smiling and cheering wildly.

“Thank you, thank you.” Ivar placed his hand on his chest bending at the waist, taking a bow. Shifting to get comfortable, he replaced his focus on your previous question. “I do not have plans for lunch, however, if you would like to make some I am more than happy to agree.”

Adjusting your scarf, you sighed gently. Not wanting to be too forward in your next decision. “Would there be a place around, where we could grab a quick bite? Or did you want to head home?”

In the time that you had known Ivar, you’d learned that there were days when pain would rack his body, draining everything from him if he didn’t take the proper rest breaks. On a good day, he could go forever it seemed. On others, he had admitted to you that getting out of bed was a struggle. This morning had been busy, Ivar showed you around his home city, on top of the two nights you’d gone out previously.

If he wanted to go home, you wouldn’t mind heading for your hotel, or navigating your way around until you had to meet for dinner.

Reaching for his crutches, Ivar carefully placed his arms into the cradles, gripping the hand helds readying himself to stand. “I know of a great place for lunch, if you want to go? If you had other plans…”

“My only plans today were to hang out with you, then have dinner,” You paused and smiled, “Also with you.”

“Well,” Ivar grunted hauling himself up to stand. You followed suit, standing as well. “Then let’s make it a full day.” He took a step away from the table and paused, holding out an arm to you. “Coming?”

“Are you sure?” Cautiously, you laid a hand on his bicep knowing that if you held there then he could still manage his crutches. “If you’re tired or need a break, then I don’t mind.”

“Fuck it,” Ivar rolled his eyes and giggled, “You’re beginning to sound like Ubbe. Not a turn on, by the way.”

Kissing Ivar’s cheek, you can’t help but grinning like a fool, slowly moving down the side walk with your hand still clasped to his arm. You had no idea where he was taking you, nor did you care. Ivar chatted idly about this place and that, nodding to one or two random people, a dumb smile plastered to his face.

He’d asked you to come visit and was convinced that you’d decline, much to his surprise and yours, making the trip was a no brainer. Six months of knowing one another, racking up phone bills, and endless FaceTime conversations the idea that he wanted you here was overwhelming and heart warming.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Ivar chuckled, nudging you and stopping short. You glance at him, his eyes mischievous under the wide brim of his hat.

“Of course,” You half lied. You had been listening, his voice soft and enjoyable, but the words had faded together and you’d caught none of them.

“So, you’re okay with shaving your head and letting Sigurd sacrifice you?” Ivar nodded, his lips turned into a pensive frown. “Good to know, we can work on signing the paper work tonight.”

“Okay, you caught me.” You took the teasing with good nature. “What was the question? The real question?”

“I asked,” Ivar repeated, “How would you like going back to my place, I’ll make us lunch and we can hang out until dinner?”

“Hmm,” You lift your chin and drop it in a slow, half nod. “Are you sure? I don’t want your brother feeling like I am overstaying.”

“Ubbe is at work,” Ivar informed you, biting his bottom lip, his eyes shifting past you nervously. “And you’ll be fine, Ubbe likes you. Hvitserk and Sigurd will, too.”

“You’re sure?” Your nose wrinkled in a sniffle from the cold. “I don’t want to impose and have them hate me.”

“They won’t hate you, if anything they’re going to love you.” Ivar’s lips turned into a shy smile, before he leaned in for the most innocent kiss. “Because I do.”


	3. Two Strangers : Coffee & Cuddles

The house was lit as the morning light came through a few slatted blinds, dim from the clouds which covered the sun, but light enough to comfortably leave most lights off. Feet on the wood floor, your toes scrunched against the glossy boards wishing you’d put socks on. Following the short path from the bedroom to the kitchen, you inhaled the fresh aroma of coffee brewing.

In the kitchen, Ivar stood, in last night’s jeans, gazing out the window. Bare chested with his hair loose, he yawned and stretched his shoulders up to loosen the tension in his back. Sleeping with someone else in his bed had been nice, a bit nerve wracking, but nice.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He broke the silence, not turning to look, the steps were far too delicate for it to be Ubbe.

“Good morning,” You blushed faintly at his greeting.

“I’m glad you stayed here last night,” Ivar pointed to the window. “You may have never got out of the hotel, today.”

Outside the window there was more snow piling on top of the dusting that had been there all week. The sky was gray and pink in the morning, a few stray flakes continuing to tumble to the ground. Shivering at the sight, you wrap your arms around your self, bringing the warm house coat closer to you. Ivar’s scent was woven into the fleece material, bringing a small smile to your face. The soft sandalwood and citrus scent was intoxicating.

“Thank you,” Your voice is low, you hadn’t realized how sleepy you would sound, “by the way, for letting me stay. It’s been really nice of you and Ubbe to let me crash here.”

Ivar nodded and smiled, he had no problems with your presence as you were fully aware. Ubbe had insisted, several times, it was more than fine with him as well, but you felt like you were putting him out somehow. When you made it back to your hotel, tonight, you would make sure to leave some cash behind as a thank you to Ubbe.

“I like having you here,” Ivar spoke, his crutches softly thumping against the kitchen floor. Steadying himself, he reached up and dug around a cupboard. “It’s nice to have someone other than Ubbe to talk to in the morning.” He finished with a soft grunt, his arm stretched overhead Ivar’s face lit up when he found what he had been looking for.

“Do you need any help, Ivar?” You questioned leaning against the kitchen table feeling a little useless for not offering to help.

Ivar wouldn’t have taken it anyway, he had made it very clear that you were here as a guest. Last night when you’d tried to help clean up after dinner, Ivar had practically requested someone sit on you to keep you from doing dishes. Had you not willingly given in, opting to talk with Bjorn’s wife; Torvi, you felt as though one of the Lothbrok’s would have complied happily.

“Nope, I’m good.” Ivar answered placing a large glass bowl on the counter top.

You were impressed at how well he got around, but seeing him at home was even more impressive. Ivar had explained that he’d designed the entire floor plan of the house, drawing it to suit both him and Ubbe. A family friend, a skilled builder and sort of Ivar’s boss, had helped bring Ivar’s ideas to life. Whether he was using his crutches or wheelchair, there was nothing out of bounds for Ivar in his own space.

This morning Ivar wanted to be Ivar, a normal (if that were possible for a Lothbrok) 23 year old, who was trying to impress the girl he adored. He had big plans to have breakfast ready before you woke, but had overslept and only managed to get into the kitchen a handful of minutes before you. Coffee had barely began to brew when you’d stepped into the spacious kitchen.

“Do you want chocolate chip or banana waffles?”

Slouching into the robe a little further, you lulled your head to the side, a playfulness on your sleepy face. “Surprise me?”

“In that case,” Ivar smirked, moving to get the waffle iron out, “you should go back to bed and I’ll bring them in.”

“Or,” You shifted your weight, curling your toes against the smooth flooring, “I could help you and we can go back to bed, together?”

Ivar giggled, one of the little things you were growing to love about him, his nose crinkled and his eyes sparked with a giddiness. “What are we waiting for? Grab a knife, you’re on fruit slicing duty, gorgeous.”

The radio played a string of random 80’s hits, the two of you signing along to as many of them as you could, laughter erupting through each one. Ivar swayed back and forth, stirring the waffle batter, singing into a spatula in a silly manner. Watching him go about his antics, you couldn’t help the laughter that followed.

How far he had came from being the shy guy on the plane.

“What the hell are you doing, Iv?” Ubbe’s booming voice startled you. Squeaking, you jumped and threw the knife onto the floor with a clank. “Easy, no need to go throwing knives at me.” He began to laugh. “I liked her until she tried to murder me, let the record show.”

“Morning, Ubbe.” Ivar waved a hand, steadying himself and pouring some batter into the waffle maker. “Waffles?”

“Uh, if I say yes do I have to go back to your bed and eat them,” Ubbe smirked devilishly, “Or can I have mine in here?”

“Ooh,” Ivar bit his bottom lip, shaking his head at his older brother, “you best make your own, my bed doesn’t have room for three.” He winked at you.

“No worries,” You quietly butt in, washing off the knife, “I don’t mind eating at the table alone. You boys enjoy breakfast in Ivar’s bed.”

Turning to face you, Ubbe cocked his head and Ivar snickered. “Okay, murder attempt aside, I like her again.” Ubbe motioned to you. Rubbing his hands over his bearded cheeks, he groaned and stepped toward the coffee maker. “You two enjoy, I’ll grab something at work, I have to go.”

“Will you be back for dinner?” Ivar glanced over at his brother, watching him grab a travel mug and fill it.

“Depends,” Ubbe shrugged glancing around for the milk, which was next to you. “Floki has this new design he wants to try at that office building, the one you designed last month.” Ivar seemed to know exactly what his brother meant.

“Okay, well, enjoy.” Ivar waved his brother off. “Tell him that I’ll have those designs for him in another week.”

“Tell him yourself, I’m not taking the flack for you slacking.” Ubbe winked at you, his mouth tugged into a smirk.

Ivar muttered something about his boss, while Ubbe shook his head, not paying his little brother much attention. Grabbing his coffee, Ubbe bid you and Ivar farewell shouldering a bag and leaving for work. Outside Ubbe’s truck engine came to life, the tries faintly crunching the snow, and you and Ivar were once again left alone.

“I was thinking, after breakfast, what if we stay in today?” Ivar brought you back to the kitchen. “We can watch some movies, hang out, and enjoy each other.”

“At some point, I have to go back to my hotel,” You glanced down at the robe, wearing a tshirt you’d borrowed from Ivar under it. Your own clothes would be nice, the dress you’d worn for dinner last night wasn’t suitable for a day like today.

“Right,” Ivar nodded curtly. Pulling a waffle from the waffle maker and laying it on a plate, he stood for a second obviously in thought. Brushing his hand through his hair, he shifted uneasily, looking as though he wanted to say something. Instead he made another waffle.

A mix of fresh fruit in a bowl, you placed it next to the plate with the waffles. Asking for direction to the coffee mugs, it was the least you could do to continue to help. Fresh coffee poured, made perfectly, you took a sip of the hot liquid and sighed in contentment. Ivar still bobbing along to the radio, drumming his fingers on the counter top, he was more of a morning person than you’d imagined.

Breakfast ready to be served, you helped Ivar carry it to his bedroom – his suggestion of eating in bed had been more serious than you’d expected. Situated on his bed, blankets and pillowed strewn around from the night you’d spent, the two of you got comfortable with your plates in hand and coffee resting on the nearby bedside table.

Resting against the headboard, Ivar smiled when you moved from the middle of the bed to sit next to him. “If you’d like we can eat and then get ready, I’ll go with you to the hotel.”

“You don’t have to, if you have other things to do.” You replied between bites of your waffle. “These are really good, by the way.” Pointing to the plate with your fork, you lick your lips.

“Thanks, my mom’s secret recipe.” Ivar smiled proudly, his voice giving him away. In what he had told you about his parents, you knew that he missed them terribly. “She would have liked you.” His voice was hushed. “My dad, too.”

Fork down and plate off to the side, you leaned in, gently kissing Ivar’s cheek. “They seem like they were really great people.”

Turning his head to face you, Ivar’s brow knitted together and his face was soft. Setting his plate beside him, he turned his upper body, hand gently under your chin guiding your face closer to his. Gosh, his lips were always so soft, you loved it. Sweet and bitter was the only way to describe the taste of Ivar’s kiss, the waffles and fruit couldn’t mask the bitterness of the coffee and several years of smoking on his lips. Leaning into him, you wrap a hand in his hair, enjoying the feeling of being so close.

“I meant it,” Ivar whispered, breaking apart. “The other day, when I said I loved you.”

“I know,” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes searching his. You’d had no doubt in that. “Ivar, I want…”

“You don’t have to say it back, it’s okay.” Ivar kissed the tip of your nose, smiling. “I jumped in pretty quick and if you’re not ready then I’m okay with that.”

“I want to say it, but I don’t want you to think it’s only because you’ve said it.” You explain your feelings the best to your ability.

“You’ll say it when you’re ready.” Ivar was reassuring, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Now, about today.”

The diversion was welcomed, Ivar didn’t want to push when there was no need.

“When we go to your hotel, how do you feel about checking out? You only have a handful of days left here, I’d like it if you stayed here.” Ivar went in head first. What was the worst you could say? “If you want to.”

“Yes,” You blurted out before giving it any thought. If you thought about it, there would only be a million reasons why you couldn’t or shouldn’t agree.

“That was easier than I thought,” Ivar laughed, kissing your forehead.

“Please, I’m not that difficult.” You teased with a nudge and a wink.


	4. Two Strangers : Doubts

Across the room your iPad dinged, telling you that there was a new video call waiting to be answered. Without looking at the person sending the request, you knew straight away that it would be Ivar. Sure enough, on the other side of the screen his smile met you – making your stomach flutter and your heart grow tight. You hadn’t seen Ivar, in person, in three months but the constant video calls and communication were almost enough to make up for the absence.

“Miss me, yet?” You asked settling in on your couch. You may as well get comfortable now, this was going to take a while. Not that you minded, the marathon video chats with Ivar were the best part of your week.

“Always do, Gorgeous,” Ivar spoke, smiling like a fool. You watched as he shifted around, recognizing the room he was in as the living room. Behind him the soft brown leather couch gave the perfect back drop. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course,” You smile with your reply.

Missing Ivar was the precise reason you had asked him to move this chat to today, instead of later in the week like you had originally planned. You would get to that, all in due time, but for now you simply wanted to enjoy the idle chit chat that came with every video call. They were all the same, you’d tell other how much you’d been missing them, ask about their day, tell about yours, and then whatever else needed to be said would come into play.

“How was your day?” Ivar asked, lifting a blue towel from around his neck and running it over his hair. You hadn’t noticed it before now, but his hair was damp and his bare shoulders were staring you down. He was looking much tighter and better built than you remembered.

Distracted by the innocent, as if, action, you blinked rapidly bringing yourself back to the conversation. Damn Ivar, he was such a tease.

“My day has barely begun,” You speak clearly, glancing up to the window in your living room. The mid-morning sun is streaming through, making the lazy Sunday the almost perfect day.

To be a proper perfect day, Ivar would have to be there in person. For now, this was good enough.

“Did you make it to kick-boxing this morning?” Ivar inquired knowing that you had been talking about going.

Crinkling your nose, you smile sheepishly. “I ended up sleeping in, but it was worth it.” Your alarm had gone off and instead of dragging yourself out of bed and to the gym, you’d been happy to silence the alarm and roll over. One week wouldn’t hurt. “Did you make it to the gym today?”

Ivar slowly nodded, rolling his eyes. “Ubbe had me awake at 5 to go.”

Ivar was content to tag along, after all being active was one of the best things for him, the fact his brother constantly turned their trips to the gym into some sort of competition heightened Ivar’s desire to go. His physio therapist had recently commented on how the frequent trips were paying off in more ways than Ivar could have imagined.

Flexing his left arm on the other side of the screen, he winked and made what you assumed to be a sexy pout.

“Hey babe.” He lowered his voice, mocking the typical American Muscle Head. “Which way to the beach?”

“You’re terrible,” You giggle at the antics. “But seriously, you feel okay? No over doing it I hope?”

“I feel great,” He half lied, after this Ivar was going to have a date with his bed. The physical part of his morning had left him beat. “Hvitserk and Sig came too, we played basketball.” He beamed proudly. Having to play in a wheel chair would give most people a disadvantage, especially when their opponents were all 6 feet and over. Ivar on the other hand had something his brothers didn’t - great aim. “Sig and I won.”

“So, when is the NBA calling?” You engaged.

Ivar rolled his eyes and smirked, “I already turned them away. They’re not ready for all of this.” He teased,

“Well, when they call, don’t forget about us little people?”

Sighing, Ivar smiled softly. “Forget you? Not happening, in fact,” He paused biting his bottom lip. “I was wondering, when are you coming back to see me?”

About to tell Ivar that you had been thinking about your next visit, you paused hearing someone talking in the background on his end. Ubbe was casually yelling for Ivar, his tone softening and Ivar’s attention leaving the screen. Listening to the brothers, you waited for a lull in their conversation – Ubbe was going out and there was a possibility he wouldn’t be back for the night. Ivar was nodding, agreeing, and assuring his brother that things would be fine – before calling out to Ubbe.

Ivar’s video began to spin and you were face to face with Ubbe. “When are you coming back to see me?” He parroted his baby brother’s question. “It’d be nice to have a prettier face than Ivar’s around here.” Ubbe winked.

“Well,” You purse your lips together, “I was thinking that maybe Ivar should come visit me this time?”

Ubbe’s eyebrows shot up, his blue eyes wide, and his beard hiding the smirk on his face. “That’s a great idea, but then I miss out.” He teased.

“You have Margrethe,” You shot back. Remembering the details Ivar had given you on Ubbe’s new girlfriend, the waitress from across town. You had saw photos and she looked very much like the type of girl you would have hand picked for Ubbe. “You don’t need me hanging around.”

“I don’t know,” Ubbe drawled out the words, “Ivar’s not much of a traveler.”

“What? What is she saying? Ubbe!” Ivar was frantic in the background, growling at his brother. Ubbe moved quickly to dodge a slap in the back of the knees. “Ubbe!” He was practically shouting. “Give that back!”

“Do you think you’d even want him? He’s a shit roommate.” Ubbe continued to torment you and his brother. “At least here, if you get bored with him there are three other brothers to pick from.”

“Ubbe you dick,” Ivar continued to rage, annoyed in the background.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ubbe.” You play into his torment, “If I get bored with Ivar, you’d be my last choice.” You laugh and wink.

“You just keep breaking my heart,” Ubbe placed his hand over his chest. “Here, I’ll give you back before Ivar has a tantrum.”

Another blurry screen, a thump, and Ubbe shouting happen before Ivar’s pouting and innocent eyes reappear. Sighing heavily, he settles in and clears his throat. His hair is starting to dry and curl on the ends, you want so much to run your fingers through it. To stroke his cheek and reassure him that you and Ubbe were only teasing him.

“Ivar,” Your voice is even and sweet. You fight the urge to stroke the screen, gently connecting the freckles on his left cheek with your finger tip. “You know we were being dicks.”

“I know.” He grumbled, his eyes a dark blue and his frown making his lips look even more inviting.

Logically, Ivar knew that you would never cast him aside for one of his brothers. At least he hoped you would never cast him aside for one of his brothers. Ivar had always hated having to share, mostly because his brothers would take his things and never let him have them again. Childhood toys were one thing, but a woman was another. Ubbe had crossed a line in his comments and Ivar had gained his revenge. Now Ubbe was heading out on a date, his arm sporting a new bruise, and his shins beat from Ivar’s crutch.

“What I wasn’t teasing about, was you coming to visit me.” You continue to smile at him. “I mean, if you want to.”

You’d love to have another chance at visiting Ivar at home, but this time, having him come to you felt right. You knew his family and his friends, it was time that Ivar got to experience that on your side. You could show him all of your favourite spots and sights, take him around town and show him off.

A vacation from home and his brothers wouldn’t be that bad, getting to spend time with you would be amazing. There were a few tiny details which kept Ivar from jumping on a plane this very moment. His heart clenched and his stomach twisted. He shouldn’t be so nervous.

“A…are…Are you sure?” Ivar’s question was barely above a whisper.

“Of course, I am, silly.” You encourage. “Ivar, I want you to come and see where I’m from. I want you to meet my family and friends, to show you around like you did for me.”

“But what…never mind.” Ivar sighed heavily, a low growl resting in his throat.

“Ivar.” You hardened your gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ivar idly chewed his bottom lip, trying to find a way to voice his concerns. “What if I come to visit and your family hates me? I mean, do they know?”

“Know what?”

You could understand his concerns, because you’d had the same ones when meeting his family.

“About me.” His eyes locked on your through the screen. A shiver ran through you.

“Of course they do! No, I’ve been seeing you for almost nine months and decided it wasn’t important.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Yes, Ivar. They know about you and I.”

Shaking his head, Ivar spoke. “Not about us, I mean about me. Do your friends and family know that you’re dating a guy whose legs don’t work, who you met on a plane?”

“Ivar!” You loudly scold him. “Don’t be like that, what is this about? Are you mad because Ubbe and I were teasing you? If you are then I’m sorry. If you’re not feeling well, then we can discuss this later.” You huff at him. “I hate when you talk that way, you know it. Ivar, I love you for you. Legs or not.”

“So they don’t know?”

“They know,” You answer with a deadpan stare.

You’d told your best friend about Ivar almost immediately after hanging out together in Paris. When you realized the photos that you’d taken with Ivar were mostly selfies or waist up, you had told her everything. How he had sat by you on the plane. How he’d really managed to make you like him with that stupid wagon joke. Even how he never let crutches and braces slow him down. After meeting Sigurd, you’d even had the odd idea about setting the two of them up. Once Ivar met her, you may go through with it.

Your mother had spoke to Ivar on the phone and briefly on a video call one morning. She had been elated, commenting on his manners and not to mention looks. Knowing that she wanted the best for you, while having dinner one evening you had told her everything about Ivar. About his brothers, his parents, even his legs. Her only reply had been to ask when she got to meet him.

“And you know what, babe, they don’t care.” You continue, not without noticing the doubt on Ivar’s face. “You make me happy. My friends and family will respect that. My mom can’t wait to meet you.” You smile sweetly. “And I can’t wait to have you here.”


	5. Two Strangers : Movies & Marriage

The heavy groan that rose from Ivar was impressive and startling, as he managed to somehow flop down on your couch. Leaning his head back onto the soft material, he closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach, a satisfied grin crossing his handsome face.

“That was amazing,” He complimented, with another pat of his tummy. “I haven’t ate like that since,” Ivar paused trying to remember a meal that good, ever. “Well, I’m sure it was probably Helga who cooked it.”

You nod in understanding, pulling off your socks and sinking down on the couch beside him. Ivar’s boss was married to one of the best cooks that you’d ever met. Giving his tummy a final, dramatic pat, Ivar sighed in content.

“I shouldn’t have had the third piece of pie, though. But how could I say no? Your mom may be a better cook than Helga.”

“Not possible, but not impossible.” You smile at the praise.

Resting his hand on your knee, Ivar turns his head to look at you, his eyes bright despite the jet lagged bags forming under them. “I had a good time, thank you gorgeous.”

Any and all doubts Ivar previously had about your family were gone and squashed, after dinner. They had been kind, accepting, and genuine people. Ivar was another guest, in no way different – other than he was your boyfriend. Your mother had gushed over him, making sure he was at home while she kept filling his plate. Your father had been happy to sit and talk sports, cigars, and whatever else they had discussed in the living room when you weren’t in ear shot.

“My parents love you,” You gently slide your hand into his. “You do know that?”

“They’re nice people, I should have just listened when you told me not to worry, but there is always that anxiety meeting the parents.” Ivar winked. Shifting around to get comfortable, he furrowed his brow with a sudden thought. “If it isn’t too much trouble, I want to return the favour.”

“You mean we make them dinner?” If that was the idea, it was a great one. Your parents would be thrilled that Ivar wanted to spend more time with them.

“We can make them dinner, take them to dinner, I don’t care. Whatever you think is best.” Ivar didn’t know your parents well enough to know which option would be more their style, which is why he would leave that detail to you and pick up once the choice was made.

“Mom has Wednesdays off, we can make dinner and have them here. They’re going to love it.” You lean over, kissing his cheek, wiping your lipstick away after the act.

“Good,” Ivar continued excitedly, sitting up straighter. “I’m cooking. Point me to where everything is, then get out of my way.” He laughed in a childish manner.

“Ivar, babe,” You draw out the words, rolling your eyes. “You’re my guest, you don’t need to cook. Let me treat you.”

“No way,” Ivar gave a quick head shake, his dark hair swishing with the sudden jolt. “It’s my treat, I insist. And next week,” He leaned over giving you a soft kiss for emphasis, “will be 10 months since we’ve met. I’m taking you to dinner that night.”

Ten whole months! It was crazy to think that ten months ago, you’d walked onto that plane and had Ivar sit next to you. Ten whole months wrapped up in this beautiful human being, literally and figuratively. Time really did fly when you were having fun.

Since Ivar was visiting, you had agreed to celebrate the ten month mark, not knowing if you’d be able to be together on the actual one year mark. An anniversary celebrated two months early was better than a FaceTime date on the actual day, not that the video chat date would be passed by, either way.

“You’re too sweet,” You whisper, leaning back into Ivar, your lips brushing his. Tugging at his bottom lip, fingers running through his soft hair, you feel the butterflies again. They had impeccable timing, soaring in whenever you and Ivar got too close.

His signature sandalwood and citrus scent was enough to hit you like a truck, lost in the feeling of his fingers running up under your shirt, you nipped at his neck and adam’s apple. Eyes closed, Ivar leaned his head back, your body against his was one of the greatest feelings he’d ever experienced. Your lips felt smooth and your hands pulled his hair just the right way, but…Ivar mentally paused.

Opening his eyes, Ivar licked his lips, his hands stopping their climb under your shirt, and his brow creasing with a scowl to follow.

“I’m sorry,” Ivar spoke, the rigidness of his tone causing you to stop.

Leaning back, you gently run your fingers across the back of his head, a concern growing within you. “Are you okay, Ivar?”

“Oh, I’m more than okay,” Ivar laughed nervously, glancing down he grimaced. “I just…right now…it may not be the best time for that. I uh, I’ve had a big day and…”

“Say no more.” You place another innocent kiss on his cheek. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Ivar clarified, feeling frustrated with himself. He desperately wanted to, but what good was he if his entire body wasn’t willing to cooperate. “Oh fuck, I want to.” His eyes were wide and lustful. “I’m sorry.”

“Ivar, you have nothing to be sorry for.” You assure him, gently massaging his scalp. “I get it, today was a busy day. You’re probably tired and that is perfectly fine.” You search for a quick topic search, if you dwell on this for too long then Ivar will only start to beat himself up, if he hasn’t already. This isn’t the first time for this to happen. “What do you say, we get into something comfortable and watch some movies?”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Ivar smiles softly, thankful that you didn’t press the subject and went along with it, no hurt feelings.

“Now you’re trying to be cute,” You tease him, nudging him in the arm.

“No, I’m being honest.” Ivar replied with a little push to his voice. “I’m serious, some days I think about us and I don’t get it. But I’m glad.”

Why you would want to hang out with him, to have a relationship with him, baffled Ivar at least once a day. You could be out, enjoying life and being with anyone, but you had chose him. For whatever reason, the universe had given you to him.

Maybe his father had always been right, to think the world gives you the best of things, when you need them most? Maybe that is why he had you? Ivar wouldn’t say he was a religious man, but maybe this was his parents way of making up for all the things they couldn’t give Ivar when they were with him?

“Love isn’t supposed to make sense, Ivar.”

“No, I suppose not.” Ivar agrees, taking the chance to remind you just how much he loves you. Hearing the words always causes a deep blush to creep up your neck and into your cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You enjoy reminding him, just as much. “You’re hard not to love, Ivar Lothbrok.” You wink.

“And it isn’t just me,” Ivar is wide eyed. “My brothers are crazy about you, I swear. I think Ubbe and Torvi may be planning our wedding, but I have no proof.” He joked.

“Ugh,” You roll your eyes dramatically. Ivar feels his body go stiff with the action, fear creeping through him. Had he said the wrong thing? “Would we really want Ubbe planning a wedding?” Your question eases Ivar’s fear.

Ubbe Lothbrok was not the first name to mind, when you thought of a wedding planner. Truthfully, none of the Lothbrok Brothers seemed like they would be much good at organizing and planning a wedding. It would surely turn into a mess of chaos, arguments, and somebody getting punched. Torvi on the other hand, you could very easily imagine asking her for some help – after all she’d done it before, and unlike your mother or friends she would have no issues giving you the brutal truth about things.

“Not unless we’ve got our hearts set on a pub and some fried food for a reception.” Ivar snickers.

“Then Hvitserk should hire him, if he ever decides to settle down.” The middle Lothbrok brother had two loves, fried food and women, if he could combine the two then there was no doubt Hvitserk would be all over that.

It’s Ivar’s turn to roll his eyes, the idea of Hvitserk ever settling for one woman was laughable. His older brother would have to stop thinking with his dick long enough to do that. “Hvitserk will settle down, when I can walk on my own and pigs fly.”

“Has he ever had a serious girlfriend?”

“Nope,” Ivar blushed a little. “None of us have, aside from Bjorn. He’s had two, married them both. I guess the rest of us aren’t as romantic. Or foolish.” Ivar smirked. Gingerly running his finger tips over the top of your thigh, he adds. “Some of us never expected to find someone to actually love us.”

“Mmm, well Sigurd can be hard on the head,” You refuse to let Ivar turn this into some sort of self loathing conversation.

“Which is why you want to pawn him off on your best friend?” Ivar giggled, remembering a conversation previous. “Makes sense, although I think it is a good idea. He needs someone nice. And this time, I won’t sleep with her.”

“You, Ivar Lothbrok, are a terrible man.” You can’t bother to contain the laughter, as you fake disgust. “Although, I do admire your idea of revenge.”

“He had it coming,” Ivar feigned innocent. “Taught him not to insult me like that, ever again.”

“What am I going to do with you?” You asked with a tsk.

You could marry him.

No, Ivar mentally kicked himself. Too far.

Despite the joke about planning weddings, this wasn’t the time to ask. One day, though, Ivar would find the nerve and ask you. Thinking about it at any great length would cause his nerves to rise and his breath to grow short. He knew this from experience, after having a similar thought one evening while laying on the couch watching tv. He’d began to mildly panic and had sent Ubbe into full on dad mode.

Not wanting to tell his big brother what had cause it, Ivar had assured Ubbe that he was fine and had only grown nervous over an upcoming routine doctor’s appointment. If thinking about asking caused such a reaction, Ivar could only imagine how asking would go.

“I have some ideas,” Ivar’s best resort was to play devious. “But what if we worry about that later?”

“I’ve got my eye on you,” You locked eyes pretending to stare him down, breaking out in another uncontrollable grin.

“Enjoy the view, then gorgeous.” Ivar gently smacks his hand down on your knee, “Now, what does a guy have to do around here, to get a girl into his tshirt, and cuddled in front of a good movie?”

Groaning, you sighed and dramatically fling your legs onto the floor. “If I have to move, then I will. You pick the movie and I’ll go grab some blankets?”

“Sure,” Ivar straightened up, thanking you for handing him his crutches, he carefully and cautiously stood up. “Oh and we’re going to need snacks!”

“Where do you put it?” You wonder out loud, looking him up and down.

“I’m related to Hvitserk, do you need to ask? Oh hey! Do you think your mom would bring us some left over pie?” He teases, his tongue held between his teeth, gently nudging you with the end of his crutch.


	6. Two Strangers : Want You

Ivar was miserable and his idiot brother, Ubbe, wasn’t making it better by inviting everybody they knew over for dinner. Slouched in his wheelchair, Ivar gritted his teeth at Hvitserk who was energetically waving his hands around mid-story.

He’d woke up this morning, his back was paining and his left knee felt as though someone has used his knee cap as a football over the course of the night. The pain had been taken care of rather quickly, but the hurt in his ego would need some time. When he had tried to FaceTime you; Ivar had been met by a brief glimpse of your face which wore a frown as you hurriedly told him that you were off to tend to a work emergency.

Some one year anniversary this was going to be.

Ivar was spending it surrounded by morons, an unfair assumption since none of this could be blamed on any of them. Listening to people be happy, while he wasn’t had always drove Ivar a little crazy.

“Ivar,” Ubbe’s girlfriend, Margrethe, gently touched his shoulder to grab his attention, “Do you need me to get you anything?” She was getting up, it was nice of her to ask. Ivar’s reply could have been nicer.

“Did I ask for help?” His blue eyes glared at her.

“I’m sorry, I was only offering.” Margrethe shrugged it off. Ubbe had warned her, when she had arrived that his little brother was in a mood. Again.

“Ivar,” Ubbe scolded as he would a child.

“Ubbe.” Ivar mocked his older brother, rolling his eyes.

“Because you are in a bad mood, gives you no right to treat all of us like shit.” Ubbe pointed his finger, in a dad-like lecturing way, at Ivar. His tones and actions were almost as if someone has brought Ragnar back and placed him next to Hvitserk on the couch.

If his father were here, at least someone would be kind enough to allow Ivar his self-pity.

“Whatever,” Ivar grumbled, pushing himself out of the living room. If they needed him, unlikely, they would know where to find him.

His bad mood had been on going, he heard Sigurd inform someone in the living room, as he rolled down the hall. Ivar had been snapping and yelling at everyone, with no real reason, for the past two weeks. If he told them, then they would mock him or try to tell him that he was being paranoid.

For the last two weeks, every time Ivar tried to contact you, it was a disaster. You were either too busy to FactTime, your calls were almost non-existent, and even your texts were short one word replies. Ivar wasn’t stupid. He knew that the possibility of you finding someone else or losing interest in him was very likely.

Your mother sent him a message almost daily, asking how he was, or sending him silly little jokes or links that she felt he’d enjoy. Ivar didn’t want to mention the strain to her, in case your new found interest – man or otherwise – wasn’t common knowledge. The one time Ivar attempted to bring it up with Ubbe, his older brother rolled his eyes and told Ivar that you were probably busy with work. His advice had been to give you space.

Space?

Ubbe was crazy.

The next time Ivar got to talk with you, for more than two minutes, he was going to tell you just how he felt. Ivar Lothbrok was no a toy, he could not be used and then replaced, not without a damn good reason. If it was distance, then Ivar wanted to know. If it was him, then he deserved to know. Whatever the reason, Ivar wanted you to look him in the eye and tell him.

Every time he thought about it, Ivar could feel the urge the cry creeping up. A good cry wouldn’t hurt, but that was best left for when he was alone. Not in a house full of people. If one of his brothers found him crying over a girl, they would never let it go. Ivar would carry that with him for the rest of his life and he couldn’t have that.

Getting as comfortable as he could, Ivar laid in his bed, his phone on the stand beside. Glancing at the device, he willed it to ring. For you to be on the other end, giving him some elaborate reason for not being able to give him the attention he wanted so desperately. He wanted to hear your voice, your laugh, as you told him about some crazy work project or other event that had been keeping you away from him.

Just last night, Ivar had debated getting on a plane and going to you. To find out what was happening, but the fear of finding you possibly with another terrified him. The thoughts swirling Ivar’s mind were far from fuzzy or pretty. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes tightly, to make it stop, Ivar felt his annoyance rise when his bedroom door opened.

On the other side of the door stood Bjorn; the tall, blond casting a shadow as he loomed. “Ivar?”

“Would it kill any of you fuckers to knock?” Ivar asked irritated. Would it kill anybody in this family to knock? It was as if none of his brothers had ever been taught that courtesy. Being the baby meant he was never given the same respect as the older boys. Even now.

“What’s wrong?” Bjorn asked leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest. “Hvitserk said you were pissed off.”

“Nothing, now leave.” Ivar waved his hand, dismissing his brother. “Let me be pissed off, if I want to be.” Ivar sighed.

“Well, if you feel like socializing, Torvi made you a plate and I have some things that I want to talk about. All of us.” Bjorn narrowed his stare. “It’s about the company.”

Having taken over the management of their father’s company had been huge for Bjorn, daunting and exciting, having Rollo named as the owner had made things a lot easier for the eldest Lothbrok. Eventually, the boys would get their turns, but until they were able, having everything turned over to their Uncle had been wise of their father.

“Can we do that later?” Ivar groaned, resting his forearm over his face.

“Whatever, suit yourself.” 

“Suit yourself,” Ivar mocked his brother, when Bjorn shut the door. “Go pester your new daddy and leave me alone.” Ivar grumbled to himself. Feeling a little guilty at the comment, Harald wasn’t all that terrible.

Laying on his bed, gazing at the ceiling, Ivar heaved a sigh of agitation. You had your own life and he could accept that it was busy, but to be brushed off so easily and casually had hurt. Closing his eyes, Ivar could see you in his imagination, a perfect image loomed behind his eyelids. Your smile, your smell, your touch, your laugh – it was all there. Ivar felt his heart skip and flutter, his worries and fears were finally coming true.

One day, Ivar hadn’t expected it to be so soon, you would find someone else. This put a wrinkle in Ivar’s plans, as he was going to ask you to marry him the next time he saw you. Sigurd had even insisted he asked using Aslaug’s ring from Ragnar. Ivar had always imagined the ring would go to Ubbe, being their eldest son, which is why Ivar would give it to him soon enough.

Evidently, it wasn’t meant to be. Ivar was destined to be Ivar, the boy whose legs didn’t work, living with his brother who had taken pity on him. At this rate even Hvitserk would find a mate before Ivar.

Yeah, well, fuck you! Ivar snorted.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted Ivar’s little hate fest. Growling, he didn’t bother to respond. Slowly the door pushed open, a brief commotion from the other side flooding through.

“Ivar,”

“What?” Ivar sat up, snapping at the intruder.

Couldn’t they leave him alone?

Sitting up on his elbows, to continue his growling, Ivar felt his cheeks go red seeing you standing just inside the bedroom.

“If you don’t want me to bother, you, then…” You pause somewhere between leaving and cussing him out.

“No, no please.” Ivar scurried to sit up properly, not without you noticing the wince of pain. “I’m sorry, I thought you were Margrethe with some stupid question, again.”

“Lovely to see you, too.” You smirk, gently closing the door. Your feet barely touched the floor, before you crawl into bed next to Ivar. “Bjorn told me that you weren’t feeling well.” You rub your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Ivar leaned his head into the crook of your neck, happy to have you here. His fears slowly easing and drifting away, as you continue to stroke his hair. “I thought you had a work emergency?”

Most of his anger toward you melted the second he looked at those eyes of yours. Ivar wouldn’t and couldn’t ever stay mad at you. How could be ever be mad at such a perfect being? His very recent thoughts making him feel foolish.

“I was at the airport, when you called. I was getting on my last flight, to get here.” You smile sweetly, kissing his temple. “I didn’t want you to know, so I lied.”

“You flew all the way here, just to be with me?”

“I have been miserable without you,” You reply, your stomach filling with butterflies.

“Me too.” Ivar whispered with a sheepish grin. “How did you get here?”

He had been so wrapped up in his self hate that he had managed to ignore this as a possibility.

“Bjorn picked me up..” You explain your arrival. “I was the reason he wanted you to come out to the kitchen,” You giggle quietly. “He knew you’d never come out, but telling you that there was business to talk about was worth a try.”

“I’m so glad that you’re here.” Ivar whispered, his face hid in the crook of your neck. “This is the best fucking surprise.”

“I couldn’t leave you on our first anniversary.”

Ivar stayed with his face hidden, inhaling your scent, enjoying the closeness of your body and his. “I thought you were ignoring me, because you didn’t want me. Silly, huh?”

“Ivar,” You softly scold. “Of course I want you, never think otherwise. If you want me, then I am not going anywhere.”

“Don’t.” Ivar smirked against your skin, his lips brushing your jaw. “Next time, you want to surprise me, at least leave some sort of clue.” He groaned. Ivar hated surprises.

“Well, there is more to this surprise.” You reply feeling your nerves begin to creep in. “You see, I wasn’t entirely lying about having to be at work. I don’t work today, but I am starting a new job on Monday.”

“So, you’re not here long?” Ivar pouted, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

“That’s the thing,” Your heart is hammering in your ears. What if Ivar isn’t as thrilled about this as you? “If it’s okay with you. I start work for Bjorn and Rollo on Monday. It’s just until I can find something in my field, but who knows? If I like it, then I may stay there.”

“Wait,” Ivar’s brow furrowed. “You’re moving here? To work for my brother? Are you fucking kidding?”

“No!” You shake your head excitedly. “I’m really moving to Kattegat. Unless, you don’t want me to? Then I can always tell them that I won’t take the job.”

“Of course I want you here! You’re going to move in, right? I mean we’ll have Ubbe, but he isn’t home most of the time, and that won’t matter anyway. This is my house, too. If you want to live here, I mean. I could always ask Floki if one of his apartments are for rent? Why didn’t you tell me?” The questions just came spilling out, before Ivar could stop them.

It was hard not to laugh at his excitement and panic, he was obviously shocked by the admission.

“I had already planned to live here. Ubbe and I have already discussed it. I’ll pay my share of everything and…” You pause, holding a breath for a second. “I didn’t tell you, because I was nervous that you would try to talk me out of it. Or that you wouldn’t want me here, although I knew that was crazy.”

“You’re fucking right, it is crazy” Ivar smirked, leaning in to kiss you excitedly. Rubbing his thumb against your cheek, his eyes are practically dancing with sparkle. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”


	7. Two Strangers : Take A Chance

Since making the move to Kattegat, things had certainly changed, not that you’d expected anything different. After a life time of living in the same house, with Ivar; Ubbe had finally found the courage – or perhaps peace of mind – to move and leave his little brother. With you there, Ivar was in good hands, which meant Ubbe was free to move in with Margrethe. Bjorn had been more than generous about allowing you the time needed to adjust in your new position, within the company. A job which you had quickly come to love, who knew making phone calls and booking appointments for Bjorn would be so enjoyable?

Things with Ivar were possibly better than ever. Waking up every morning to find him in bed next to you, it sounded a little silly, but it was one of the greatest feelings. Each little kiss, touch, or smile he gave you was as great as the first and maybe even better now. Knowing that this was home, at the end of a week or two, there would be no leaving until the next time you were able to be with your love made you happier than you could imagine.

Today was Friday, which meant you wouldn’t have to think about work for another two days, despite babysitting for Bjorn and Torvi tonight, you could unwind and relax. Leaving the office behind and focus all of you energy on Ivar, providing he had finished the designs that Floki had asked for and your lover wasn’t tied down to a blueprint all weekend.

“I’m home.” You announce walking into the house, dropping your bag and kicking off your heels.

The house smelled amazing, the soft smell of – was that fresh baked bread? And curry filled your senses, causing you to sigh happily and your mouth water. You’d been met by Hvitserk, who was leaving, as you’d drove in but you didn’t see Helga’s car anywhere.

“Kitchen.” Ivar called back. Down the hall, you could hear the soft thumping of his crutches on the floor. He was over by the stove, based on the way the floor creaked under the rubbed pads on his crutch.

“Ivar, what smells so good?” You have to know immediately. Making a direct descend to the kitchen, where Ivar is fiddling with a pot on the stove, his new companion Heahmund tucked under the table waiting for his new master to give him a command.

“I made us dinner.” Ivar beams, a sense of pride puffing out his chest. Stirring something on the stove top. You lean over his shoulder, kissing his cheek and checking the pot.

“It smells great.” You compliment. Glancing around, looking for any sign of Helga or a box that could have helped him achieve such a feat. Ivar liked to cook, but this was something else. “Hvitserk didn’t want to stay?”

You suddenly find it hard to believe that Hvitserk Lothbrok would walk away from such a spread.

“He wasn’t asked to.” Ivar smirks.

“I see, well,” You furrow your brow seeing that there were only two places set at the table. Erik and Refil would be here shortly, you’d actually expected them to be here when you arrived home. “I’m going to go change, then get ready for the kids.”

“No need.” Ivar didn’t bother to look away from his stirring task. “Lagertha and Harald are taking the boys, I thought we could use a night alone.” He explains his reasons for canceling. “There is a bottle of Gewürztraminer, if you want to open it and let it breathe.” By the time you were changed out of your work clothes, the luscious wine would be ready for you.

Comfortable in your favourite jeans and tshirt, armed with a generous glass of the Gewürztraminer, you were a little surprised when Ivar directed you away from the kitchen. Seated at the table, which had no doubt been set by Hvitserk under Ivar’s watchful eye, you admired the effort that had been put into this evening. Candles, a small flower centerpiece, even the good plates were laid on the table.

“Did you finish those plans for Floki?” You called into the kitchen, watching Ivar maneuver around with ease.

“Yes, I sent them over this morning.” Ivar answered in a terse fashion. “We’re not going to talk about work, it’s the weekend. No more of that until Monday.” His instructions were clear and welcomed.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Your next question came easily. You loved cooking with Ivar, you loved doing anything with Ivar, really. Any amount of time the two of you could spend side by side made you happy.

“Um,” Ivar paused, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Yes, you can bring the plates over. Dinner is served, gorgeous.”

Plates in hand, you join Ivar in the kitchen, when he is satisfied with the arrangement of food he nods briefly giving the instruction to take them back to the table, leaving a kiss on your cheek he smiles with satisfaction and pride. Ivar had been working on this plan for weeks and to pull it off this easily had been a real confidence booster.

“Heahmund, come.” Ivar whistled to the blond dog sniffing around the kitchen. “Out.” He instructed, pointing to the backdoor that led into the fenced in garden.

“Ivar,” You roll your eyes, “He was fine.”

“He smells funny and he’s messy.” Ivar protests with a sigh, adjusting his crutch once the door is closed.

“Heahmund is fine.” Your counter earns a playful grumble from Ivar.

Adjusting his position to sit at the table, beside you, Ivar grunted and winced hoping that you wouldn’t mention either – he may have over done it today. Situated in front of his dinner, he reached for the bowl of salad that had been freshly put together. “We got rid of Ubbe, did we really need another shaggy beast interrupting us?” he teases instantly.

Heahmund had arrived a little over three weeks ago, under advice from Ivar’s physical therapist, not that Ivar needed a dog doing things for him. At least he thought. When he thought you weren’t looking, you had caught him asking the golden retriever for help more than once. Ivar had been independent for twenty-four years, having to rely on a dog had been somewhat embarrassing and a little degrading. A bonus to having Heahmund was that the two of you were getting outside a lot more, which was a great benefit to both of you.

Ivar wasn’t entirely convinced this was good, but he agreed to try.

The things he did for you.

“Poor Ubbe, he didn’t deserve that.” You laugh at his comparison. Ubbe was shaggy but you wouldn’t directly call him a beast. More of a lovable pest.

“Matter of opinion,” Another smirk graces his soft features, you swear you saw a twinkle in those blue eyes. “Alright, no work talk. No talk of my brothers, either.”

Those were fair rules. Taking the first bite of dinner, you pause to savor the moment. The spicy curry blended perfectly with the sweet wine that you’d been drinking. Ivar smiled and chuckled when you moaned in satisfaction.

“Good?” He wiggled his eye brows.

“Amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I’ve always known how to cook, but I save the big guns for special occasions.” Ivar winks and takes a bite of his own meal.

“And what is so special about today?”

“You’re here, I’m here. We can’t have a special day, just because?” Ivar glances up, he’s up to something.

Shrugging it off, you agree that any day where you get to spend time together is a good day. Ivar shifts in his chair, reaching for a roll to help dull the spice of the curry, watching happily as you take another bite thoroughly enjoying the dish.

If you only knew his reasons for preparing such a special meal, you would no doubt call him crazy. In his pocket the small token of affection felt like it held the weight of the world. There it would rest, until Ivar felt the right moment had come along to bring it forward and go ahead with his true intentions of the evening. Until then, he would do his best to act as natural as possible.

“I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I’d really like to check out that new farmer’s market.” Ivar began the conversation. Saturday was always Sleep In Day #1, Sunday being Day #2.

“We can, sure.” You nod in agreement, answering around a mouthful of food. This was too good to waste time talking. “It will be good for Heahmund, too.”

“I agree,” Ivar nodded slowly. “You know that I don’t really hate him, right?” He felt the need to clarify. You laugh and nod. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but this isn’t how I wanted to get one.”

“I know and Heahmund knows that, too.” You offer.

“Good, because I’d hate to hurt his feelings.”

“I think he’s a pretty forgiving guy.” You are doubtful that the fluffy, overly happy golden retriever would ever hate anybody, despite his growls every time he sees Margrethe.

Heahmund would be left home, when you and Ivar went to Margrethe and Ubbe’s for dinner on Tuesday.

It was as if Ivar read your mind, as he often does, sitting his glass of wine down he began on a new topic. “I know that my brother’s are off limits, in discussion topics, but when we go to Ubbe’s on Tuesday can you do me a favour?” He leaned back, his hands rubbing against his jeans.

“Sure.”

“I uh, I…” Ivar cleared his throat, squirming in his chair. Fear hit him, when he reached into his pocket to find the ring. Hiding the ring in the palm of his hand, he continued, “You’re going to have to act surprised.”

“Surprised?” You quirk a brow.

“Yes.” Ivar confirms.

It was a risk he was taking, asking Ubbe to hold a dinner for the two of you, but Ivar was confident with the answer you would give. If you surprised him and declined, then it would be another family dinner. Nobody but Ubbe knew Ivar’s plan, in case if backfired then he could save face and disgrace.

No matter what answer you gave, he was still going to be able to surprise you, when you arrived and your parents and best friend were also in attendance.

“Ivar?”

“You see, it’s just that…well…” Ivar reached for his glass of wine, his throat suddenly dry and his hands sweaty. He had never been this nervous. “Since you moved in, I’ve been having these thoughts, and I don’t really know how to say this or how to make it grand.” He paused, biting his lip nervously.

“Are you okay? Ivar, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Ivar smiled weakly. “Tuesday would have been my mom’s birthday and something that she always wanted, was for her kids to be happy.” Ivar began, the ring felt like a weight as it rested in his palm. “She would have loved you.”

You have lost count at how many times Ivar has told you that, since meeting. Sigurd has even told you a time or two, how much Aslaug would have loved you with Ivar.

“You make me really happy. I never thought that I’d be this lucky, but I am and…” Ivar pauses, his blue eyes scared and wide. “It scares me. I know that I can be hard to live with and that I’m a pain in the ass, at times. I can be demanding and even a brat,” He laughs. “But I love you to no end, I’ve never felt this way about anyone or anything.”

“Ivar,” You break his speech, “You know that I love you, too. Even when you’re being a pain in the ass.” You wink.

“Good, because what I’m about the say…” He opens his hand to display the simple gold band, a single emerald perched on the top. “This was my mom’s.” Ivar swallowed the lump in his throat. “When she passed, my dad left it to my brothers and I, with a deal.”

You feel your heart begin to race and your ears ring. In a haze, you listen as Ivar explains how the ring was left to Aslaug’s sons, only to be taken when the first of the four decided to get married.

“My dad left it in a safe box, a few months ago, Sigurd brought it to the house.” He continued to recount the events. “The intentions were for me to give it to you.”

“I don’t…I mean…Are you?” Your head is swimming and barely anything is making sense right now. “Won’t your brothers want it? Ubbe? Hvitserk?

“We discussed it, Bjorn too, and they all agreed that it should be mine. The reason they agreed,” another small smile crept onto his handsome face, “Is because they love you as much as I do. Okay, maybe not that much. But, I do love you a lot and I would be honoured if you agreed to take my mom’s ring.”

Gasping with a loud sob, you can’t exactly form the words you’re looking for. Shaking you nod eagerly, trying your best not to cry like a baby. Leave it to Ivar to give you a great story while asking to marry you.

“I’ve been waiting to give you this, since your first visit.” Ivar confesses, taking your hand in his, “I love you, more than I could ever imagine loving anyone, and I want to keep that. So, I’m giving you this with the intentions of making you Mrs. Ivar Lothbrok.”

“Oh, Ivar.” You coo leaning forward, grasping his face and kissing him softly. “I love that. I love you. I love all of this.” You babble.

“Oh boy,” Ivar blows out a loud breath, giving you a quick kiss. “I’m glad you said yes, because my nerves are a mess.”

Leaning your forehead to his, your hands playing in the back of his soft hair, you laugh. You probably look like a crazy woman, your remaining make up smeared by tears, and your eyes red and splotchy. You don’t care, because those are the minor details of the moment. When you tell this story, again – and you will – those won’t even be the things you remember.

“You are so perfect.” You whisper, soft lips brushing against Ivar’s plump lips.

“Not bad, I suppose.” Ivar grins, his hands rubbing against your back.

“Ivar Lothbrok, you are perfect in every way. You are the sweetest, gentlest, and kindest man I know. Never change, Ivar.”


	8. Two Strangers : This Ship Ain’t Ever Gonna Sink

Children laughed and screeched, while adults mingled, delicious smells from the kitchen caused mouths to water, and thoughts got lost in all of the chaos. You lingered in the kitchen close to your mother, who was busy helping Helga prepare to feed the army of guests.

Both your mother and Helga had continuously tried to ban you, partly because you were in their way, most of their reason had been that this was your party. The guest of honour didn’t need to be corralled in the kitchen, you should be out mingling with those who had come to spend the special day with you and Ivar.

As much as you were enjoying the attention and chaos, there was going to be a long period before you invited everybody back. Between Ivar’s family and your own, the house was constantly full. Hvitserk and Sigurd had taken most of the pressure off, entertaining people. Ubbe and Margrethe had so graciously taken in your parents, allowing them to stay in the apartment for the duration of their visit, to give you and Ivar a few moments alone now and then.

The house was a fair size, but you had no idea it could hold so many people until this morning. Hvitserk was the first to appear at the door, coffee and a bag of your favourite donuts in hand. A peace offering for sleeping with your maid of honour. You’d been so excited to introduce her to Sigurd, apparently she had other ideas. Next to the door was Helga, grocery bags in hand, demanding Hvitserk stay as far away from the kitchen as possible.

Shortly after, Ubbe and your parents came through the door - Margrethe was working and would be around sometime later. The last person you remembered walking into the house was Bjorn. He’d arrived separately from Torvi and the children, bringing his uncle Rollo and family along.

Love and affection poured from every person who passed by you, yet you found yourself wanting them all gone. In another few hours they would all retreat and you’d be left alone with Ivar. Even Heahmund had other plans for the next few weeks, living with Lagertha and Harald; Bjorn’s idea. Explaining that his mother had room for Heahmund to run and it would be similar to home with a big house and only two adults.

Ivar was weary about leaving his new furry shadow behind, at first, until he realized leaving the dog behind was going to be easier than trying to accommodate the golden retriever on your honeymoon. Nobody wanted to be in a confined space with a dog watching their every move. It was creepy.

“Drink?” Sigurd asked catching your attention. Glancing at your empty glass, you smiled and nodded. You hadn’t noticed him join the party in the kitchen.

“Thanks.” You lean over, kissing his cheek before taking a gulp of the sweet wine. He was truly earning points for best brother in law.

“Big families call for a lot of wine.” Sigurd noted with a wink. Helga giggled raising her glass and tipping it at Sigurd indicating more. “Excuse me, the chef is calling.”

Filling Helga’s glass and making sure your mother’s glass was topped off, Sigurd pulled a plastic cup off of the table and began to pour, his hopes of hiding from chaos and Hvitserk were dashed when his aunt came calling.

“Sigurd,” Gisla, Rollo’s wife, sauntered into the kitchen. You had never saw her looking this … casual, before. Her jeans and blouse were like sweats to anybody else. “tes frères ont besoin de toi.”

“Merci.” Sigurd handed his glass of wine off to his aunt, bidding the rest of you farewell and dashing back to the crowd.

“Gisla.” You greeted her with a smile. “I’m so glad you guys came.”

Rollo had taken the chance to tell everybody that he was partly responsible for this, after all Ivar would have never been on that plane to Paris, if Rollo had flown here like Ubbe wanted. By that standard it would be your late father in law, who was truly responsible for all of this.

“Always happy to be here.” She smiled, tipping her cup to her lips. “Apologizes, though. My husband is worse than the children.” Gisla grumbled and shook her head. Her French accent coming through in her annoyance.

“Oh, have you met my husband?” Your mother laughed.

“They are both worse than the children, oui.” Gisla agreed.

“This is nothing,” Helga wiped her hands on a dish towel, a fond smile creasing her delicate features. “They are tame compared to what Ragnar was. Ragnar was terrible and then he would get Rollo and Floki going.”

“Like Ivar is, now?” You add your question. He had been tormenting Floki all day, which translated to Floki terrorizing Rollo.

“They need a swift kick and to be sent outside.” Gisla huffed. “Pardonne-moi, I know that I should not complain. This is a happy time.” She apologized with a sincere smile shot at you.

“Oh please,” Your smile widening, “complain away. I’ve been complaining enough for three people this week.”

“Yes, but it is your wedding. You are allowed to be annoyed with whatever you want.” Gisla winked.

“Ivar would probably disagree.” A sheepish look replaces the smile. “He’s been bearing the brunt of it.”

You hadn’t meant to complain and whine this much, bless Ivar, each new complaint that you had he immediately found a solution or at the very least a way to make you happy until the next thing came along. Weddings were stressful, even now, two days post the actual event, you were still finding stress.

The ceremony had been everything you could have ever wanted or dreamed of, Ivar had worked extremely hard in helping plan every detail and he had worked harder to make sure it all came together beautifully. Your wedding hadn’t been overly big, immediate family and your closest friends, 100 people total. The love and warmth which had accompanied the day from start to finish was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Tomorrow morning, you were taking your parents to the airport, and then tomorrow night you and Ivar were off for the first adventure as husband and wife. If only he’d tell you where you were going.

Ivar had planned the entire honeymoon by himself, he’d even gone as far as packing for you - talk about nerve wracking. You trusted him completely and he assured you that there was nothing to worry about. For the next 16 days, the two of you were off to celebrate and enjoy life.

“I think he is handling this all very well.” Your mother cut in. “Your father would have been a sobbing mess, if this happened at our wedding. He was so emotional that entire month.”

“That’s sweet, though.” Helga cooed. “Floki cried the entire ceremony, then threw up because he was so damn nervous. I could have been a real Bride-zilla and he would have never noticed.”

“I was.” Gisla shrugged and tipped the plastic cup. “I’m amazed Rollo didn’t run off, the first chance he got.”

Idly listening to the others chat and laugh about their wedding experiences, you were lost in a world of your own, startled when a gentle hand brushed against the back of your neck. Creeping up behind you was nearly impossible for Ivar, his crutches always giving him away. You must had been deep in thought, or the noise level was louder than he’d realized. His fingertips skimmed the skin above your shirt collar, sending a jolt through you.

“I don’t suppose I can steal you away, for a few moments?” He leaned in closer.

“Oh, um.” You glanced around briefly, nobody would need you that urgently. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Good.” Ivar kissed your cheek, leading the way from the kitchen. Following him down the hall, into your bedroom, you were barely noticed by those you passed. It felt nice to walk through your home and not be stopped thirty times while walking 10 feet.

“Shut the door.” Ivar demanded situating himself to sit on the edge of your bed. Sighing in relief when his ass hit the mattress, he immediately reached for you to bring you closer. “The next time we want to have a family party, can we do it at Bjorn’s?”

“Agreed.” You nod leaning in to give him a soft kiss. “At least everybody is getting along.”

Ivar had warned you of a few issues that may arise, so far everybody was happy to coexist, if there was any animosity they weren’t showing it. Ivar’s head bobbed in a nod, you had a point there. His father wouldn’t believe his eyes, if he were here. Floki and Ragnar’s former business partner, Athelstan, in the same room without a fight - it was a miracle. For as long as Ivar would remember that had never happened.

“It makes me happy that everyone is getting along. You deserve nothing but happy guests.” Ivar’s smile spread. He was forgetting that he deserved this as much as you.

“It’s not just me.” You take the chance to remind him. “We, we deserve this.”

Ivar wouldn’t argue or try to change your mind. Although he was still trying to figure out exactly what is was, he’d done to deserve you.

“So, what was it that you needed to steal me for?” If Ivar was pulling you aside there had to be a reason, quickly you did your best to stealthily take in his appearance. No spills or stains, he looked well, all in one piece. You didn’t want to be short or uncaring, unfortunately time was ticking and dinner would be soon.

Biting his bottom lip, Ivar wrinkled his nose. “No reason, I just wanted to see you. I have hardly looked at you, since this morning. I wanted a few minutes, with my wife.” He loved saying that word.

“Wife.” He’d used it more times in the last two days than you knew to be humanly possible. Each time he said it, his eyes would light up like a child on Christmas. You wouldn’t ask him to stop any time soon, either.

“Well, I am glad we are finally getting to see one another.” You giggle, leaning into Ivar’s side. “Hiding away like two teenagers, in the bedroom. Gosh, Ivar, this is our home we don’t need to sneak around.”

“No, but I like it better this way.” He kissed the top of your head. If you were in the bedroom with the door shut, people would assume he was in need of assistance for something and leave you be. Ubbe may come knocking, asking out of habit, if Ivar needed him but he’d go away when Ivar told him to.

“I predict we have three more minutes, before someone comes looking for something.” You roll your eyes.

“Three minutes isn’t a lot, but I’ll take it.” Ivar concluded. He had been dealing well with the crowd, enjoying the people around him, and not retreating into his room like he usually did when faced with such a task.

“Tonight’s our last night in here.” He noted, looking around the room. The same room he’d had since he’d grown too big to carry up the stairs. Ivar and Ubbe had spent most of their lives on the ground floor of this house. Upstairs the master bedroom and a second bedroom, previously shared by Sigurd and Hvitserk, were being used as guest rooms and storage.

While on your honeymoon, Floki and Ubbe were caring for the house, which meant redoing as much of the upstairs as they could to make it accessible for Ivar. A new shower would go in the master bath, along with a new chair lift to get him to your new living space. It was costing a fortune, but you wanted to give him something special for a wedding present. Money was no object in allowing Ivar to use all of his home.

Ivar had drawn the plans a few years back, yet never put them to use. Going on what he’d designed, the house would be completely transformed by the time your honeymoon was over. You had Floki’s personal guarantee that he wouldn’t rest until the place was perfect for your arrival home.

“I haven’t been in my parent’s room since I was sixteen.” Ivar’s brow furrowed. After his mother had passed, he’d begged Ubbe to carry him upstairs, all Ivar wanted was to be as near to her as he could be. He’d sat on Aslaug’s side of the bed for almost an hour sobbing. “But, now it’s ours.”

“Ivar,” You gently coo brushing your hand through his hair. “We don’t…”

“I know, today is supposed to be happy. I get it, I’m sorry.”

“No, babe, you’re allowed to miss them. It’s natural and I’d be worried, if you didn’t.”

All of the emotions of the wedding, along with family and friends being back in the house had come to cause Ivar a few sentimental moments. Over the last few days, he’d spent a fair bit of time missing his parents and wanting them near. He wasn’t the only one, the night before your wedding, Ivar and his brothers stayed in the house. After everything was set for the next day, they had sat passing around a bottle of scotch and telling stories about their parents.

“You know, Rollo has some home videos he brought. They’re at Bjorn’s. We can ask if he’d leave them, if you want?”

“So you can watch your new husband bawl like a baby? Really, is that what turns you on?” Ivar smirked. He’d already asked Rollo to leave the dvds before he flew home. An evening spent watching old home videos with his brothers and new wife, Ivar was genuinely looking forward to that. Most of Rollo’s videos were from before Ivar’s time, but that didn’t matter.

“Strange kinks, what can I say?” You tease back. “Honestly, Ivar, I think this will be good. For everyone.”

“Okay, I’ll let the others know that we’re doing a family movie night, once we’re back.”

It was settled. Before this evening was over, you’d inform the others that you were picking an evening to make dinner and watch videos.

“Are you enjoying our company?” You ask sliding your arms around Ivar.

“I am.” Ivar chews his bottom lip, “I’ll be happy when it is only you and I for a few days. Our family is great, but I can’t wait for it to be us. You and I, alone, enjoying a fantastic trip. You’re going to love it.” He smirked mischievously.

“Ivar,” You coo running your finger along his shoulder, trying your best to look innocent and seductive, “Baby, can’t I get one tiny hint?”

Clenching his jaw as he thought about the request, Ivar inhaled deeply. He had worked hard to make the twelve day cruise from Venice to Barcelona happen. The remainder of your trip would be spent exploring the surrounding areas of Barcelona. He couldn’t wait to see your face, when you arrived at the airport tomorrow evening and he told you of the destination. He had come up with the idea, after hearing you talk about a similar adventure that you’d saw on television.

“You’re going to enjoy it, trust me.” Was the only hint Ivar was willing to give.

“I love you, but right now you are being a pain in the ass.” You nudge teasingly.

“It’s what husbands are supposed to do.” Ivar countered. “Your dad explained it all, don’t worry.”

Your parents had been Ivar’s biggest fans since the second they’d met him, nothing had changed there. Your mother bragged to everyone about how amazing he was. They talked weekly and acted like best friends. Your father was constantly going on about how great it was to have Ivar in the family, the son he never got to have. He bragged Ivar up as much, if not more than your mother.

When your parents had immediately hit it off with his brothers, Ivar was happier than he knew he could be. Nothing would be worse than family who couldn’t agree or stand to be near one another.

“I’m learning from the best.” He insisted with a wink.

After his initial visit with your parents, Ivar had told his brothers how your father reminded him of their own. Upon their own meeting, Sigurd was the first to back up that claim. If Ragnar were here, he and your father would be fast friends. An idea that had helped Ivar a tremendous amount.

“You are too much, Ivar.” You shake your head at him, snuggling in for a moment.

Some how, some way, you had managed a full ten minutes of alone time. Sitting on the bed, talking and enjoying the muted chaos of the house. A loud, sharp bang on the door indicated Hvitserk on the other side. He had such a clumsy knock.

“What is it, Hvitserk?” Ivar called glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“Dinner is finished, Helga wants the two of you out here. Now.” Hvitserk’s fingers danced against the door. “Come on, you guys, I’m starving and nobody eats until you’re out here.” You could hear him chuckle on the other side of the door.

“You’re in no way starving.” You call back in a playful manner.

Grumbling about how he was wasting away, Hvitserk gave another clumsy knock, when he went unanswered. “Quit kissing your girl and hurry up.”

“I’m not going to miss him, while we’re away.” Ivar muttered reaching for his crutches.

Settled around the makeshift table, spanning through the dinning room, the chaos was quieted down and you were pleased to see how well this had all came together. Sitting between Ivar, who was on the end, and Margrethe to your inside, you were beginning to feel as if your head was on a swivel as everybody around you quietly chattered.

Plates were filled, compliments directed toward the chef and her helpers, attention began to shift from chatter and onto food. Before you were allowed to get too far into your meal, Ubbe rose from his seat on the other side of Margrethe. Gently tapping his glass, he raised it up to grab attention.

“I know that you’re all starving, which is why I will keep this short.” He cleared his throat. “You’re no doubt sick of me talking, but I have one more thing to add.” He was taking a great deal of pride in his baby brother, it was showing in everything he said. His speech at the wedding had left everyone in tears.

“Get on with it, then.” Ivar instructed his older brother, “Hvitserk is wasting away.”

Across the table from Ubbe; Hvitserk nodded eagerly with half a roll stuffed in his mouth, earning a crowd laugh. Commenting about how Hvitserk would live, Ubbe began.

“Ivar, Ivar, Ivar.” Ubbe laughed through a slight growl. “How you ended up with someone this wonderful, baffles us all.” He nodded toward you, causing his brothers to laugh. “Our dear, sweet, not always so innocent baby brother it has been my greatest privilege to be your big brother. Life hasn’t always been ideal, but the universe has always given us something to ease our troubles.

"We’ve tried to kill one another a few times, but in the end we’re still family, and it’s with a great honour that we’re going to grow and expand. I’ve never been more proud or happier for you, kid.” Ubbe tipped his glass toward you and Ivar.

“As for my new sister, well, I hope you know exactly what you have managed to get yourself into.” Ubbe chuckled and winked. “As I said at the wedding, I was skeptical about you at first, then I got to know you. I saw first hand how much you adored and cared for my baby brother, as we all I know I am a sucker for a good love story. It doesn’t get much more romantic and you don’t find two people more in love than this. To the happy couple!”

“To the happy couple!” Bjorn’s voice echoed loudly through the house.

“Alt det bedste!” Sigurd joined in, shouting out after his older brothers.

“Skål!” Hvitserk stood, raising his glass before taking a drink.

Waving his arms in a settle down motion, Ivar laughed at his brothers, he’d never admit that seeing Ubbe tear up had made him do the same. Tears under control, he carefully maneuvered his crutches to stand. Bracing for balance on the table and his crutches, Ivar asked you for his glass.

“Thank you, gorgeous.” He grinned and accepted the glass. Balanced, Ivar raised his glass, commanding the room. “Thank you, everyone for coming out to share this with us. I truly am the luckiest man, because I could have never imagined such a perfect person to share my life with. I want everyone to know, hell I’ve even considered shouting it from the roof, but she won’t let me up there.” He winked, while a few people laughed.

“You’re scared of heights, it has nothing to do with me.” You chime in.

“Details.” Ivar concluded before finishing what he wanted to convey. “Being serious, I know this is rare, I am truly humbled by all of this. I can count on three fingers, the amount of girlfriends I’ve had. Sorry Sig.” He shot a cheeky grin in his older brother’s direction. “I only wish words could describe how I feel. Not only towards my wife, but all of you. I wouldn’t be Ivar, if it weren’t for each and every one of you.”

Each face staring back at him, in some way, had managed to shape and carve out exactly who Ivar Lothbrok was. Long time and new, young and old, they all held a part in his life - your life. Every single person at the table had played an important part in getting the story this far.

Ubbe had been right, the universe had been cruel and unfair at times, every disappointment, every loss, and sorrow had all collected to get you here. Ivar took the time to settle back in his chair, indicating that he was finished his speech. Seeing the antsy bodies around the table, you would hold off before saying too much.

How you would ever be able to stand and tell all of these people how you felt was beyond you. How did you put into words all of these feelings? Leaning over, Ivar smiled before stealing a kiss. Cliche and silly, the moment seemed to slow and stand for a second as he lowered his voice. Speaking only to you.

“Sometimes, two strangers become something greater than you could ever know.”


End file.
